The Talk
by sookakkit
Summary: Bruce is forced to deal with his son, to the chagrin of both parties.


_DC's characters._

As Damian Wayne leapt through the air, relishing in the freedom and the adrenaline, he heard his comm crackle.

"Robin. When you're done patrolling the upper east side, return to the Batcave. We need to talk."

"...Understood, Batman." There was a muted tone of annoyance that he was sure anyone, forgetting a man of his father's intelligence, could detect. Yet he had promised Grayson not to cause too much conflict. Therefore, it was muted.

The dark haired boy muttered a curse and then flipped over a chimney and shot his grappling hook as he swung from one rooftop to another. His silicone soled boots were silent as they hit the cement roofs. Even his yellow cordura cloth cape barely made a sound as he transitioned. If Damian had any say, he would declare his stealth and efficiency perfect. Sadly, it was Father who had the say. Robin rolled as he hit the ground before swinging to the next building.

It had been a quiet night so far and Damian hadn't had the opportunity to release his frustration upon any deserving soul so far. He prowled around the area again, his yellow cape fluttering behind him as he ducked and rolled onto a rooftop.

Right. Just when he wanted to avoid any cumbersome talks with his emotionally stunted father. Not that Damian, wasn't, but he was _ten_.

He had to confess that he wished that his father could perhaps learn some understanding from Grayson. He greatly respected his father, yet the gruff man was as flawed as they come. And his father's constant surveillance evoked more frustration than Damian was equipped to handle.

He sighed bitterly after several more careful, detailed rounds of the neighborhood.

Did no criminals want to rob anyone today? No harassment, no drugs?

He would remember this insult, those scum forcing him to have to confront his own father.

Finally, he bit his lip, letting out an annoyed click of his tongue and then continued home, thinking that it couldn't possibly be another lecture about the use of force again. He had already had six this week. One from Pennyworth, one from Drake, which had of course led to the use of more force, three from his father, and one from Commissioner Gordon.

"Adults." Damian muttered under his breath.

* * *

As soon as Damian's boots hit the stone of the Batcave, he was ambushed by the steady stare of his father. Not that he would ever admit it, but he flinched slightly, preparing himself for another scolding. He took in a deep breath of air, determined to give just as good as he got.

He had only promised Grayson not to cause too much trouble.

"Damian. Sit down."

His father, with his cowl down, but still dressed in the Batsuit was sitting stiffly in front of the mainframe computer and there was a plush wooden chair beside him (most likely courtesy of Pennyworth). Damian sat. He managed to clear his slight anxieties with the thoughts of slugging some mugger and it helped slow his heartbeat. Like a lullaby.

"Remove your mask."

Damian followed the orders obediently noting somewhat proudly that he was improving at reading his father's moods, and because Father did not appear too displeased, Damian would play along. Had his father seemed the slightest bit angry, he would've bristled like a cat and swept out of there, screaming insults in his native language. He had to admit it: drama classes with Kelley were useful for pushing the Batman's buttons.

The bulky man turned to look at Damian and then stated, "You were staring at Wonder Woman at the Watchtower last week."

Damian didn't manage to hide the flush in his cheeks. He didn't dignify the statement with a response. Also. _What?_

"I admit that as your father I have the responsibility to...have this type of conversation with you."

Damian grunted in response averting his eyes from the steady blue of his father's.

"You have always been...more advanced for your age, but you did not appear to have much interest in the female population."

Then Pennyworth walked in with a plate of sandwiches correctly assuming that Damian would be hungry after his patrol. Damian was close to smiling gratefully at the butler. Which was unacceptable. He gave Pennyworth a disgusted expression when he met his eyes.

Alfred placed the food beside the two men. Robin bit his cheek, ordering his body to stop salivating at the scent and sight of food. And then his stomach grumbled. Traitor.

"Thank you Alfred." There was a pause as Father seemed to expect the butler to leave, but the older man stared Father down. Even at the butler's intensity, Father managed not to flinch.

"Master Bruce. I congratulate you on your effort, but please be reminded that a father-son conversation is not a lecture. It it to _discuss_ the things that all males, especially in this family, appear to dread."

"..." Bruce didn't respond.

"Your emotions." He turned to Damian, "Let us not lash out in embarrassment either, Master Damian." The butler then left swiftly, leaving Damian with his face scrunched up in disgust. Once the butler was gone, Damian allowed his eyes to linger longingly on the food.

His father cleared his throat.

"I assume you know all the mechanics?"

"Yes, Father. But this conversation is noted and unnecessary. I was staring at Wonder Woman not because she is inexplicably scantily clad despite not having invulnerability, but because I had been involved in a conversation with the female Zatara on the benefits of magical clothing and the powers they may possess as well as their limits."

"..."

Damian couldn't help but assume that because Zatara (whom he secretly referred to as the slutty one) had been one of Bruce's intimates, several thoughts were running through the older man's mind. Now that Damian had thought of it, Wonder Woman (or the insane barbarian) and his father appeared to have a inclination as well. But it appeared dull to his mind in comparison to the adrenaline of fighting crime. Although his mother had always implied that one day he would find his own Beloved, he had tuned her out, deciding that an interest in romance was one of the few flaws that his mother had. One of the others being that she was a homicidal maniac, but Damian supposed that was acceptable. There were worse traits to have.

Such as being Drake.

"So are we done then?" His tone was the perfect balance of curt and petulant that he knew irritated his father.

The large man sighed visibly, crinkling his brow.

"And your interests...on the internet?"

Damian balked and then suddenly recalled Wilkes's flushed excitement about the forbidden, dragging Damian along. He would have to have a long discussion with the red head about never involving Damian in his idiotic pursuits again.

"Wilkes...has a certain naive curiosity that has led to several compromising situations."

"Da-"

"I don't require this talk. Can we be finished now? If you want to play father, go find Grayson." Damian retorted, his eyes flashing in blatant anger, trying to control the nagging frustration and embarrassment rising up. His father actually believed he would be so obvious is in his interest. He was nothing like Drake and his complete inability to deal with women. If Damian were to actually bother courting a female, he would be skillful and subtle. Damian would never be caught _gawking_ of all things.

Bruce growled, but then seemed to recede slightly. "I'm not playing, Damian. I'm trying. If nothing, at least try not to act like a child if you don't wish to be treated as such."

"Tt. As if I'm given a choice! You would treat me as a child either way! You treat Grayson, Todd, Brown, all as children. I'm surprised you aren't trying to feed Pennyworth powdered milk in bottle!"

"I treat them as the situation dictates."

"As you dictate!"

"Damian."

"What? Is my name like a leash now? You tug and I roll over like all your good little soldiers?." Damian glared, but didn't dare to leave, his whole body trembling in anger as he provoked his father, half hoping it would turn to violence because even that would have been easier.

His father tended to treat him as an inferior, as weak. It left a putrid taste in Damian's mouth.

"...that's enough. Go to your roo-"

Damian's mouth opened slightly, but at the sight of his son's shaking body and his narrowed eyes, Bruce receded again, "It's called concern."

Damian balked before looking at his father strangely, his eyes narrowing further. The boy's slim shoulders were still hunched up tightly. A feint? Batman didn't back down; Batman didn't-

Batman's - his _father's_ \- crystal blue eyes wavered slightly as his rough voice continued. "I'm worried. You've grown up. Besides some small details, you mostly have the maturity of an adult, but Talia hasn't provided the appropriate..." Damian almost wondered if his father would say love. "...attention in many necessary areas. And I'm trying, Damian. At least try for me?" Perhaps he _had_ been taking lessons from Grayson.

"..Tt." Damian pursed his lips trying not to relinquish control of his facial muscles and smile. They spasmed anyway, but after all his secret practice, he knew that it looked more like he was smelling something particularly rancid. Good. It would convince Father that he wasn't so easily placated.

"Alright."

Bruce sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "...would you prefer if Dick dealt with these matters?"

His tone...did he sound reluctant? Damian shoved down the hope in his heart.

"No." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "You're suitable, Father." There was a long stifling silence as Damian held his breath.

And then Bruce patted Damian's shoulder. He relaxed slightly as he searched his father's eyes for a hint of approval. The blue, reminiscent of Damian's own, revealed nothing, but there was a slight curve to his lips that Damian didn't believe was there before.

The beginnings of another awkward silence was broken when suddenly Grayson burst in, his legs loping down the stairs in a frenzy. "Did you already have the Talk with him Bruce? C'mon I wanted to be included! So who was it? Who's Damian got a crush on?" His whole face was grinning. Damian growled, balling his fists up. The acrobat was mocking him.

"Yes, I did, Dick. Appa-"

"Barbara Gordon," Damian glowered.

Dick froze mid smile.

"I fully intend on courting the young lady." Damian eyes settled cooly on Grayson's as he gave his brother a condescending smirk, his chin tilted up slightly with arrogance.

"Dami-"

"You're irritating Grayson."

"Hey, I came here just to visit you." Grayson managed, his eyes still wide and jaw unhinged.

"...Tt." Damian walked passed Grayson and as he passed the rigid man, grabbed the collar of his brother's shirt and dragged him along. Dick, still frozen in shock, managed to regain some of his composure and ran quickly along, pestering him.

"You-you're not serious right, Dami? Hey, hey. Dami!"

Before they left the cave, Damian, ignoring the cries of Nightwing, glanced back at the figure of Batman his long cape trailing down and sniffed.

"Tt."


End file.
